“Good, solid foundation between you two,” Russell mumbled.
“Your life is better?” Travis snapped.
“Certainly not as complicated,” Russell said calmly.
Travis looked out the window. “Yes, I think it’s time to tell her.”
“Are you going to tell her why Borman won’t show up in Janes Creek? About the little play you put on in the library? How about that you’re now the owner of Borman Catering?”
“What are you? A federal court judge? You want all the facts?”
“Just curious how the great Maxwell son conducts his life.”
Travis started to reply to that, but they’d reached Kim’s house and there was a strange car in the drive. “You don’t think that’s Borman’s, do you?”
“I wouldn’t think so,” Russell said, “but I wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Park around the corner and I’m going to go in through the back door.” Minutes later, Travis was heading toward Kim’s house, Russell close behind him. “Where are you going?”
“Mom said to help you in any way I can. If it’s Borman, you might need backup.”
Travis knew that if it came to a confrontation, he wouldn’t need help with Borman. On the other hand, Travis didn’t know how Kim was going to react to what he had to tell her. And how much should he tell her? If he was going to tell her the truth about himself, maybe he should tell her about Borman and the ring as well. Or maybe he’d postpone the part about setting Borman up and buying his company and—
“I can see the yellow stripe down your back through your clothes,” Russell said.
“I wish Penny had spent more time with you and taught you some manners.”
“She tried, but she was too busy working for your family to do much for me.”
“If you ever want to compare childhoods, I’m ready,” Travis said.
“At least you had—” Russell began but they both stopped talking when they heard a man’s voice raised in anger.
Travis hurried to the back door. As usual, it was unlocked. He slipped inside, Russell right behind him.
As soon as Travis heard his name, he knew he should leave, but he couldn’t make himself move. He could feel Russell beside him, and he was as transfixed, and as immobile, as Travis was.
“Kim! Are you crazy?” Dr. Reede Aldredge was shouting at his sister. “You don’t even know who that man is.”
“That’s a stupid thing to say. I’ve known him since I was eight years old. He’s Travis . . .” She wasn’t sure if his last name was Cooper or Merritt or something else.
“He is John Travis Maxwell and his father is Randall Maxwell.”
“So? I’ve heard the name but . . .”
“You ought to read something besides jewelry magazines. Look on the Forbes Web site. Randall Maxwell is one of the richest men in the world. And his son Travis is his right-hand man. Maxwell specializes in taking over other people’s companies. When some guy is down and out, Maxwell steps in and buys the place for a song, then he sends in his crew to clean it up. He fires people by the thousands, puts them out of work. And you know who makes all this possible? His brilliant son, Travis the lawyer—the guy living in your guesthouse.”
Kim set her jaw. “There are extenuating circumstances that you know nothing about.”
“So tell me.”
“I can’t. I promised Travis—”
“Are you insinuating that I wouldn’t keep a confidence? Do you have any idea how many lies and secrets and intrigues I know about in this town? I want to know why Travis Maxwell is here in Edilean. If he’s planning to buy some business for his father, I think we should tell people.”
“It’s not like that,” Kim said. “Travis only works for his father so he can protect his mother.”
“That makes no sense. Is that the crap he’s been feeding you?”